Difference between revisions of "Log:Masks for Memories"

19 June, 2018

Lux goes to the Market in search of a new contract.

Wild Roses

As the sun bleeds amber over the horizon most of the marketeers are packing up and packing it in. The menagerie of oddities set aside for the next day, although this appears to be prime time for a few night owls. One, a ghoulish fellow wailing about the prices he has for good dreams. Not too far from him a canine lady barks about various hedgefruit. Further down and closer to the center is one of the few said to sell contracts and the like. Ryan Dunnage, an verdant darkling well into old age. He stands at his stall, throwing a smile and a, "Good evening," at anyone that passes by.

Lux approaches, the full weight of her Gentrified Bearing, her Wyrd, her Mysterious good looks settled about her shoulders. The wyrd that pools at her feet as light drifts with smoke rising from it, lightsmoke filled with shapes that look like claws tearing through the apparations. She has been in the Market for a few hours, but has not yet found what she desires it seems.

Of course, this being the market her usual red blouse is gone, replaced by one of black instead. She seems to be, for the most part, keeping to the rules and regulations of the Market. No sense in upsetting this troupe. She has been moving from stall to stall, when she finally arrives at Ryan Dunnage. "A darkling who servs the Roses," she muses with a raised brow as she appraoches the stall. "So few Changelings have been given that privlage. What do you sell, Shopkeeper?"

Dunnage is old and from rumors around New England has seen some shit. Some crazy, awful shit. However, he's yet to meet a gentry head on or anything that might be closed to those being so far away yet so much a constant figure in his life.

He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring when he catches sight of Lux. He blinks several times over, and doesn't do much to hide what appears to be equal parts fear and awe. As for the other passerby they give the weird, Wyrd Lux a very wide berth. However, she looks to be the fuicking bee's knees to every hob she passes. Whether she realizes, acknowledges them, or simply ignores him she's gaining a small following of hobs that follow in her wake.

Ryan takes hold of a line of rope hanging on the side of his stall. "I sell a great many things, but I trade in contracts and hedge fruit." There's a faint stutter in his voice as he tries to find his pride and resolve, and eventually it does come. "Is there something specific you're looking for, or want to see what's on offer tonight?"

Putting her elbow in one hand, Lux taps her chin with the other. "I am in the market for a few new cantrips. Something to liven up my status as a Vizier." The hobs are ignored. The bearth given her is ignored. It is all just another thing that makes Lux, well... Lux. She accepts it and moves on. She uses it if she can. "Praytell what manner of goblin magics do you sell?"

Dunnage stares at Lux, but eventually he blinks. "I sell any and all of them. From things to change or add to your mantle, to one that'll let you fly from your dreams." He nods to that, prideful of his work here, at least. "And if I don't have it now I can easily get my hands on it in short order. Just so long as you're willing to pay my price, of course."

Lux raises a brow. "Your price? That entirely depends on what you ask, shopkeep. Perhaps a deal can be struck, but I am no spring courtier who will fall for a few trinkets and dreams of love. You will have to do better than demand to make a sale with me. However, bargin in good faith and we can certainly both come out of this happier for it. Now, let me see... I specifically am thinking that the first clause of the Contracts of the Wyrd, known as Mantle Mask would be useful to my work. Mind you, it is not something that is essential - ask me for too much and I will simply seek another shopkeep who will deal with me more fair. What would you seek to charge for said contract?"

"I'm nothiing if not fair," and he smiles the only way some weird creature of the night can. More predatory than anything warm. "I also can't promise dreams of love or any bull like that. That's for the young folks too stupid to find their own love, or too dumb to realize what kind of trouble they're asking for. No, I prefer memories as my currency. I do in fact have the clause you're looking for. First, tell me what memories you're willing to offer, hmm?"

Lux brow arches slightly. "That depends. A life like mine has quite a few to choose from, shopkeep. Do you wish for memories of my Keeper? I can show you the horrors committed in Her Name." She gives a wicked smile of ruby lips, the deep red color extremely vibrant in this place where they forbid all of they can. "I can show you how She had those she brought back carved into pieces, and put back together again. I can show you memories of the knife doing it to me, leaving me into the perfect tool for her plans." There is a pause, a turn. "I can show you memories of an assasination. Of a death." She makes no indication that these memories are actually -hers- mind you. "I can show you memories of what it was like to be torn asunder, drifting away. and almost lost to something you don't understand. I can show you memories of eldritch horrors destroying the land." There is a lot of darkness in her mind, it seems. "What do you wish to suffer shopkeep? What poison is it you wish to steal from my mind, make me forget in exchange for your little clause? The pain you trade from me, take away from my past will be far greater than the worth of your puny spell. How much pain can you bear?""

"I do believe I don't need something so dark. I have enough of those myself." He may not be as strong in the Wyrd as Lux, but Dunnage does appear to be far enough along that memories of his time in Arcadia have become quite clearer. His reputation as an assassin may as well be a memory and rumor with his advanced age, especially with how kind he supposedly is now. "No, I'm quite happy not for those. What about your happiest memory in the last, say, five years?"

There is a shake of her head, a gentle movement where Lux takes a distinct look around, considering the few patrons left at this late hour. "Child, you do not know what you ask for," she says in a soft voice, before she continues. "Before I offer, let me be clear - this exchange. You will be taking the memory from me, yes? I will have no recolection of it after I make this trade, and the resulting emotional effects that came from it will be... adjusted. The standard memory trade qualifications that most Marketeers who dabble in such wares, yes?"

Dunnage pulls up his stool, looking up Lux carefully. "It sounds as if you already have a familiarity of the Market. You will quite obviously know you traded it away, but you have the idea. You will find nothing there, and things tied to it gone. This is a meager trade for the clause. I would believe one such as you is quite older than the norm, if not older."

There is a calculating look in Lux's eyes, a cosideration of events. Her emerald eyes narrow and she seems to be searching something internally. Then she focuses her gaze on the shopkeep again "It is best to have it said outloud rather than assume. Are you sure you wish the happiest memory in this head? It is one that brought great joy at its timming. I believe it might be even worth too much more than what I am getting in return."

"For one as powerful and long-lived as you?" he asks with a slight tilt of his head. "I'd imagine that it's paltry sum. What is five years to an aeon? A lifetime?" He nods, as if sure of this himself. "I also do not know you from Adam or Eve. Your happiest memory could easily be the day of a loved one's birth or the day you found the most perfect Tim-Tam."

A slight smile crosses over Lux's ruby lips, before emerald eyes flash once with something. "Allright. A deal. I will give you the happiest memory of the last five years to be found within my head - in exchange, I recieve the knowledge and acceptance of the first clause of the Contracts of Wyrd, of Goblin Magic. Deal, shopkeeper?"

Dunnage smiles, and offers up an emerald hand. "Yes, that is definitely what will work for me." He reaches below the stall with his other hand, and retrieves a small, glass bauble. Within it sand and something blue begins swirls with in. With each passing second the blue changes in brightness and contrast. "We have a deal."

Lux smiles broadly, reaching out and taking the hand. As the memory leaves her, she smiles again, perhaps a bit more broadly, perhaps a bit more... sinister.

The memory is one of a darkling, walking 'inside'? Of Lux. It is a strange situation, but Lux seems to be a construct of light floating along outside this darkling. Of course that darkling is Nuit. and the memory is not one of happiness for Lux, but for Nuit. They are in the same head afterall. It is a memory of Lux speaking with Franklyn and November, and a moment where Lux realizes something about herself - something that shakes her to the core, and Nuit is able to strike forth and take over - something she has not been able to do in a long time. Pure joy at being able to control her own body, joy that made Nuit stronger to face against Lux inside their head over last few months... now that memory is gone. Now that knowledge that she could do such a thing is gone. Now lux i stronger than ever.

"Yes..." Lux says as she observes the memory go. Lux remembers it still, perhaps, or at least details of it. It was Nuit's memory though they share things. But she doesn't care if she'll remember it or not. Nuit wont. And now Lux is stronger for it.

It doesn't take long before the memory to come to Dunnage, and all it does is unsettle teh darkling once more. It takes him a moment to collect himself. He clears his throat, taking his hand from Lux's, and reaches under the stall. THe first bauble is held for her to take, and he points out, "All you have to do is shatter teh glass ball, and the clause is yours. It was, mostly, a pleasure doing business with you."

Lux take the bauble, drops it to the floor and crushes it beneath a white leather boot. She smiles broadly - perhaps a bit unnervingly and a bit with a preadators toothless grin. "Yes. Yes it was Shopkeep." She pauses, then looks up at him. "What could I give you instead of memories to make sure that little bauble you just got from me never leaves your possession? That you never sell it to another changeling, or if you sell it to hobs you do so with the caveate that it must always be sold with - that it never make its way back to changeling hands again?"

"Nothing," he states with a terse nod. "These," he says now holding up a glass ball filled with a swirling black and gleaming mass. "...are not for resell. They are kept, and mine alone." A darkling being weird is nothing new, but his seriousness about the matter is odd. "I do sell fabricated memories, but what has been used as currency is mine to keep and mine alone. I had never thought of selling them to hobs, so you might be on to something there."

Lux smiles again, reaching out with one hand gloved in white leather that streams physical light from it like fire. She caresses his face with her palm, and chuckles. "Good. Enjoy that little tidbit shopkeep. Keep it close to your heart. For if I ever discover that some changeling that knows of me has learned that little secret of mine, you'll be the first Darkling I come searching for after I've gained my Title." There is a very sweet smile on her face, but the capitilzation of the word is clear. After she Steps into Arcadia. After she becomes one of -them-. She pats his face gently as light waves around his face, then turns on her heels and is gone in a flash.